


a pause, a moment, an eternity

by EyeMug



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: ? Maybe., Angst, Character Study, Helen: haha kiddo can we lighten up? I'll buy you ice cream., I forgot what tags I had on this. Shit., Jon: let the void overtake me. I am undeserving of love. Of care. Let me rot., Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeMug/pseuds/EyeMug
Summary: He's sitting, now. On a cliff. Watching as the wind sways dead trees."You miss him, don't you?" Helen asks, sitting next to him. He keeps his eyes on the trees."I miss all of them." He says, blankly. Memories flashing around his mind without his permission.
Relationships: Helen | The Distortion & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 18
Kudos: 95





	a pause, a moment, an eternity

There's a strange peace, in mourning. Losing someone is painful, god knows, and it consumes you, but there's a small piece of you that… just goes numb.

Maybe that's just Jon, though. First, get claimed by a fear god, watch all of your friends, loved ones, die, and now find out you can't even mourn them the right way. He wouldn't be surprised.

He stares at the broken cobblestone wall in front of him, stares at the blood dripping down it. Never let's his gaze go lower because - 

"Jon?" Helen's distorted voice cuts through his thoughts. He jolts, letting his gaze move - but not lower, not fucking lower - towards her. There's shock on her face, her hands twitch every few seconds. She's staring at what he's refusing to. 

After a minute she finally meets his eyes, and there's just… pity. And that's almost worse.

"Don't look at me like that." He snarls, turning his eyes towards the ground. His eyes flicker over to the blood that's straining near him for a second before -  _ no _ , stop.

He does. Tracks his vision back to the small spider that had simply sat. Almost like it was in shock, as well.

He Knows what he'd see. Knew the second the fucking thing came around what would happen. He doesn't want to  _ see _ it, though. Seeing it and  _ seeing _ it are different things and he doesn't - he doesn't think he could handle it if he saw it.

"Jon…" Helen tries again, voice filled with an anguish of her own, something that he wishes he could have. But no, he's just… numb. Sad, fucking heartbroken, but numb. Underwater. Helen puts her hand on his shoulder and he leans into it. She's mumbling things that he could Know, but cannot hear.  _ I'm sorry, Jon. I'm so sorry. _

When she stands, and gives him her hand, he takes it. Let's himself be dragged up. Does  _ not _ look. And follows.

Follows as she takes him far, far from the cobblestone wall. Far from the spider. Far from…  _ him. _

He tries not to think about it. It's all he can think about.

  
  
  


He's sitting, now. On a cliff. Watching as the wind sways dead trees.

"You miss him, don't you?" Helen asks, sitting next to him. He keeps his eyes on the trees.

"I miss all of them." He says, blankly. Memories flashing around his mind without his permission.

_ "Boss," Tim starts, looking at him with an amused glint in his eyes. "Alas, Elias told me you fucked up." Jon rolls his eyes. _

_ "Oh? Do tell, Timothy. What now? Did I eat his lunch again?" He jokes, his voice light. Tim grins. _

_ "No, actually. You fucked up on the dates. You're a failure, now, as we all know." He jokes back, hands going to his face in mock horror. _

"I… never knew them. Other than Martin, really. But I… I'm sorry, Jon. I really am." She says, patting his back, softly. Awkwardly. Because neither of them know how to comfort worth a damn and they  _ still _ haven't found Basira and Daisy. It helps, though. Somewhat.

"Tim hated me." He says, voice small. He's pretty sure his eyes are welling up with tears, but, they won't fall. He both knows and Knows this.

He did.

_ "I love you," It's small, small against the empty room they're both in. "I don't know why. After all the shit you've pulled, but I do. But jesus fucking christ, Jon. Fuck you." _

_ Then he turns, and leaves. _

_ Jon let's him. _

Helen doesn't coo over him, when he says that. Doesn't say  _ no he didn't, he was just angry! _ and Jon appreciates it. He's finding himself appreciating Helen… a lot, nowadays. 

Makes him regret being so horrible to her for so long.

"I… I don't think I ever met Sasha, could you describe her?" Helen asks, after a long stretch of bitter, clawing at your neck silence. Jon nods. The memories of her are still fuzzy, even with being The Archivist, he can't quite remember her voice, or the way she looked.

But he remembers some things. True things. And he clings to them.

"She was… amazing, honestly. Sweetest person you could ever meet. Me and Tim both agreed that the only one of us who deserved her was Martin." He laughs, though it's light and airy. He Knows Helen brightens up at the noise, and he smiles.

"She… had long hair, dyed, though I can't -" he cuts himself off. Taking a breath. "I can't remember the color, suited her, though. Everything did." 

_ "Jon, d'ya ever wonder what stick Elias has up his ass?" Sasha asks, knocking her shoulder with his as they sit on the shitty, small couch in the break room. _

_ "Stick, or his sugar daddy's dick, Sash?" He replies back, deadpan. A thrum of happiness burning through his entire body when she cackles, shoving him lightly. _

_ "Holy shit! A zinger, from our resident grumpy ass?" She teases.  _

"She was… honestly one of the best people I've ever met." He says, finally. Unfocusing his eyes from the destruction he caused and turning them to Helen.

"You would've liked her."

"I think I would've." She says. Giving Jon a smile that seems just slightly too big with too many teeth. He smiles back, knocking their shoulders together.

The wind is picking up, now. The chill digs into Jon's body. He sighs.

"Martin really loved you, you know." She says, softly. Her words shifting and crackling. Body twisting in a way so… unnatural, that it's truly frightening. But to Jon, it's almost a comfort.

"He shouldn't have." He snorts, the rocks mixed with the dirt dig into his hands.

He shouldn't have.

"Maybe so." Helen says. Her hair is blowing in the wind, and her eyes are no longer looking at him. Instead staring where he was mere minutes ago. Into the destruction. The horror.

They both lavish in it, but neither feel truly comforted by it.

"Maybe so." She repeats. "But he did, y'know? He did. He wouldn't want you doing… this, either. Moping. Pushing the conflict with Elias aside." She lets him lean into her, just a bit. And let's the words sit.

_ "I love you." Martin murmurs. They're outside the cottage, sitting near the small fire pit outside. Jon is damn near asleep on his shoulder. _

_ "I love you too." He says, voice slurred with sleep. He grabs at Martin's hand, intertwining their fingers. _

_ Maybe it would be alright, after all. _

"Are you saying we should go after Elias?" Jon asks, genuine curiosity in his voice because - well - Helen… was content with this waiting game. Her end goal wasn't reverting the world. She quite liked the world, now. As much as she could, anyway.

"Yes." She says, before looking down at her hands. Clenching and unclenching them as they lay in her lap. "Yes." She says again, firmer, looking Jon in the eyes.

He nods.

"Alright, guess we have to start making a plan again, then?" 

"I suppose we do, Archivist."

The  _ for everyone we lost, _ goes unsaid.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll edit this in the morning lol this has been a draft for a month and I forgot to post it until after the og draft got deleted so I gotta figure out what the fuck I had this tagged but I simply do not have the energy or time. anyway. jmts rights. see ya gang aha let me know if I forgot smthn idk. tell me how ooc this is I crave a moment to be humbled.


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